


HUMANS AREN’T LEAFS. WE’RE NOT BEAUTIFUL WHEN FALLING.

by teenglader



Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Gen, Suicide Attempt, little bit of nalby, newts suicide attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-11
Updated: 2015-02-11
Packaged: 2018-03-11 22:06:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3334523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teenglader/pseuds/teenglader
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SPOILERS!!<br/>Newt's suicide attempt. Ironic, isn’t it? He only felt alive when he was about to die.</p>
            </blockquote>





	HUMANS AREN’T LEAFS. WE’RE NOT BEAUTIFUL WHEN FALLING.

  
_Sunrise_   
_Oh sunrise_   
_When will the night be gone?_

_It won't let me go_   


 

* * *

 

Somehow, it all seems far away from him. In the moment he stood still, wreathed in great shadow of the night, his eyes dark with pain.

Leafs seem lifless under his sweaty palms, for a moment he wondered how a living plant can survive in a such grey place, where the wall raise above, almost touching the night sky. Newt also wondered how the sky and the stars look like from some other point on Earth. What if now instead he was surrounded by tall trees and green treetops reflecting the moonlight, and imagined for a moment those are the branches he’s climbing, strong enough to hold this empty shell of a skin he’s wearing – not just the dull ivy.

Looking down beneath, the ground seems further, but not far away.  _It still wasn’t enough._ If he jumpes now, with some luck he’d only geta n anckle sprain. In a day or two, he’d be back on his feet runing through this shucking nightmare.  _I need to go higher._ By now the muscles in his arms ached, he wanted to scream and shout and just let it all out; instead he kept it inside, focusing on something else: getting up that bloody wall.

It’s funny, actually, how empty his head has been during all this time. It’s funny, actually, how thoughtless he is and presistent. As deeper he went into his head, seaching for any happy memory that might have hidden itself, the sorrow has been greater. It swallowed up his heart, bitten his bones, untill nothing has been left for him to smile about. He tried to imagine his mother or father, how they looked like, did he had a sister? A pet? A friend?

Once again he glanced down, from here the Glade and everything this boys had built seems far away, unable to reach, and too dark to even try. As his eyes locked onto one specific place, the Homestead, where boys were sound asleep, battling their own demons, maybe some actually having nice dreams, Newt thought about one specific persone in there. Alby.  _I’m so sorry, Alby._ He was the one thing that kept him breathing for this long. Darkness, it held him for too long now. The fire in him weared off long ago, now he’s left only with ashes in his mouth.

When he looked upon death and darkness Newt knew then, he recognized the fear of the unknow, that question that troubled him more than it should have;  _is there something after this?_  
It ate him out and left him crying in the darkness. It hurt. Not just in the imagination, the pain in his head travelled through his bloodstream, taking every inch of his body and turning it into souless rubber of skin and bones. Newt let go, his heart pounding fastly, hoping to win the race of life and death. Until then he did not even realize his heart was alive, still beating, pumping up the blood.

Ironic, isn’t it? He only felt alive when he was about to die.


End file.
